The windows were closed from fear of a draught, so the room was almost dark, being only dimly illuminated by two tapers which burned before an image of the Virgin of Antipolo.

Her head covered with a handkerchief saturated in cologne, her body wrapped carefully in white sheets which swathed her youthful form with many folds, under curtains of jusi and pina, the girl lay on her kamagon bed.

Her hair formed a frame around her oval countenance and accentuated her transparent paleness, which was enlivened only by her large, sad eyes.

At her side were her two friends and Andeng with a bouquet of tuberoses.
De Espadana felt her pulse, examined her tongue, asked a few questions, and said, as he wagged his head from side to side, "S-she's s-sick, but s-she c-can be c-cured." Dona Victorina looked proudly at the bystanders.
"Lichen with milk in the morning, syrup of marshmallow, two cynoglossum pills!" ordered De Espadana.
"Cheer up, Clarita!" said Dona Victorina, going up to her.

"We've come to cure you.